


sleep

by kayabuns



Category: The Bright Sessions (Podcast)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-10-13 23:28:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10524171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayabuns/pseuds/kayabuns
Summary: Mark Bryant loved sleep because he would wake to the afterimages of his colorful dreams etched under his eyelids.But now, he finds falling asleep scary. Maybe it's because he's been asleep in the AM for two years, just maybe.Probably.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> thx 4 readin my dudes

Ever since he left the AM, Mark sleeps lightly. He used to be a heavy sleeper; bouncing around in the day and exhausting his energy before committing himself fully to sleep. And he always slept without anxiety or worry because with sleep came dreaming and dreaming always came easy to Mark. He loved dreaming. 

He'd dream of the places he'd see in his favorite photographs; his brain was a camera, capturing all the beautiful shots he knew he'd take one day. So he slept like a log, his head too preoccupied dreaming up pretty things to be bothered with waking up; he was dead to the world until eight in the morning. 

Mark Bryant loved sleep because he would wake to the afterimages of his colorful dreams etched under his eyelids. 

But now, he finds falling asleep scary. Maybe it's because he's been asleep in the AM for two years, just maybe. 

Probably. 

The thing is, even if he knows he'll wake up, the most irrational part of mark's brain imagines that once he opens his eyes, he'll find himself in a peaceful meadow of wildflowers surrounded by sheep and stuck in his new found personal hell. And he'll discover that coming back and waking up was just a dream; that he'll stand up and find himself in 1894- only an hour since he fell asleep underneath that shady oak tree.   
He'll find that his clothes he worked so hard to dream up reverted back to a medical gown, the bright teal a sharp contrast from the sleepy colours of the field. 

He'll feel many things as he shouts and screams at the bright clean sky and lovely flowers.   
He'll feel nothing as he tries to smash or destroy something, anything. 

" Please. "

" Just let me destroy something. "

He'll feel anguish as he feels nothing.   
He'll hate the world for being so beautiful. He'll hate knowing he'll never be able to capture it in a photograph.   
Never able to press down on that smooth button and hear that satisfying, curt click of the shutter.   
Never able to flick that familiar knob to adjust the camera to the mellow sunlight.  
Never able to turn the lens to zoom in and frame that composition just right.   
Never able to-

Mark knows that this isn't gonna happen. He knows he can't sleep in his time in the past; he didn't sleep once during his stay in 1894. And besides, sleep is something you know you'll wake up from in the real world. 

He'll wake up and find himself in a bed with Sam. He'll see her fair hair spread across her pillow and her face turned towards Mark. Sam has this habit of instinctively of inching closer to him in the night. Her body would be kept on her side of the bed but her hands would always unconsciously touch the edges of Mark's shirt sleeves and her head would curl towards Mark's chest so Mark always woke up to the sweet smell of vanilla beans and magnolia shampoo. He'll stare at her for a while, seeing the eyelashes brushing her cheeks, the freckles on her nose bridge and her hair catching the blue light of the morning before kissing her forehead and getting up to make hot chocolate.

 

( Mark never drinks coffee in the morning anymore. He only drinks it before bed. )


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sam n mark go to osaka via a bad anxiety attack
> 
> 4got how 2 write 4 a hot minute.   
> also, formatting is bad but wat can u do?  
> also didn't research how osaka looks like but what can u do????
> 
> ( u can correct it )
> 
> ( but who has time for that lmao :y )

Sam sometimes dreams that Mark's still trapped in 1894.  
She has these _horrible_ half lucid dreams that she can't seem to snap out of. She'll unconsciously squeeze her eyes tight until her muscles ache and tears leak out of her ducts. Her lungs lurches unpleasantly and her stomach tosses and turns and her head'll rush with the influx of thoughts and words. Her heart rebels against her; twisting and turning and becoming too heavy for her to handle and she just wants it to _stop beating_ _for a while_  
  
_Mark is just a dream, isn't he._

_Mark's not coming. He's not here.  
I failed. Stupid. Should've told him from the start. I was wrong. I'm just the worst.I can't do anything right.I've ruined everythingIhavetoomuchprideandIindulgetoomuchican'thavegoodthingsI'msuchahorriblepersonohmygod_

Mark becomes aware of Sam gripping his shirt tightly when he half-lucidly tries to move his hand. Through his haze of sleep, he notices her hands are trembling as they grip his sleeve. Mark's mind roves over this fact and remembers that Sam catches chills easily. She must be cold.

'That's not good. She's always kicking off the blanket.' He blearily thinks to himself as he starts to shift closer to pull Sam under the duvet.

Suddenly, he feels a wave of her power breaking through his hazy mind; surging in and out of his head like a long jumper, swinging his hands back and forth before a big jump. Immediately, Mark is jolted wide awake, adrenaline surging in his veins. His heart lurched in his chest. Something was wrong. Propping himself up, he looked towards Sam. Her body was unusually stiff and straight; tense and taunt as if waiting to snap

" Sam? Is anything wrong? "

Mark can hardly see her in the 3AM light; his eyes barely able to map out her face in the darkness. But even in the darkness he still finds her face and sees her holding back tears; her trembling lips pulled tight and her nose scrunched up.  
Mark quickly switches on the bedside light, not caring that his eyes wince and hurt at the sudden brightness.

" Sam? "

Sam breathes in quick shallow unstable breaths; breathing as if her lungs were drowning. Her eyes are screwed shut and her hair is plastered like cobwebs to her sticky tear stained cheeks. Mark moves her hair away from her face and as he stares at her, he imagines a dam of water threatening to burst out of her closed eyes and mouth; that a single loosening of her muscles might let loose the torrent of floodwaters behind her eyes.

But that brief thought was immediately replaced by _**PANIC**_ as Mark realizes that she's flickering slightly, blinking in and out of the present like a loosely screwed on light bulb. Sam tries control a whimper but as it escapes, she disappears for a split second, reappearing as she inhales again.

" Sam! You're flickering! Wake up!-"

Obviously panicking, Mark shakes Sam awake; sitting up her up and vigorously shaking her by the arms. Her eyes open and, as Mark predicted, gives way to waves upon waves of suppressed tears. Her body shakes violently and her sobs become hysterical as she finds herself caving inwards. She feels waves and waves of fear and anxiety overwhelming her; washing over her as if she was a tiny pebble on the shoreline battered by harsh stormy waves. Her lungs could hardly find oxygen in between her panicked sobs and the sharp intakes of cold night air stung in her chest.

" M-mark, I-" her breath hitches between her words.

Mark presses her against his chest, feeling her tears soak his pajama shirt.

" It's okay, Sam. Breathe. I'm here. You're here. You're real, Sam. Stay-"

And they were gone.

 

Mark found himself looking up a cherry blossom tree; the branches letting patches of light fall on both their bodies and pastel pink petals fluttering down towards them. He smells the nice fresh smell of rain and the faint smell of vanilla. Sam lies beside him; resting on his arm. her eyes still screwed tight as she concentrates on regulating her breathing, just like how Joanie taught her during her sessions. Mark turns his head away from Sam. He doesn't look at Sam for a bit but feels for her shoulder and draws soothing circles into her skin while the worst of her attack fades, her breathing slowly mellowing out.

His adrenaline slowly seeps out of him as he takes in his pastel and sleepy environment; the bright but soft light taking all the sharp edges off his emotions.

" Mark? "

" Yeah babe?"

" I-... I think we're in Osaka."

" Oh. "

Mark turns his head to look at Sam. Her tears dry and her chest rises and falls more evenly as she calms down. Mark watches her grey eyes slowly lose their intensity. All of the hard edges of her face smooth out as she softly stared up into the trees, not really focusing on anything.  
  
Sam arches her neck slightly upwards and Mark is suddenly hit with the brunt of his god damn feelings because she looks like Art.

The afternoon light complements her features; her pale long hair spreads out across the grass below them and catches the light. And the dappled sunspots across her face highlights her freckles. And the curve of her nose looks elegant- so much so that Mark wonders if she has royalty in her blood.  
Sam curls away from him and he takes back his arm. Mark knows Sam needs processing time after a panic attack so he props himself up and looks around their new surroundings.

  
They were in a small park in Japan, somewhere in the past. The buildings around the small stretch of greenery had retro signboards; advertising pagers and handphones that Mark recognized to be models from the 1990s. In front of them, they could see a river flowing behind a metal railing; the robin's egg blue water slow moving and calm. Mark could feel the warm sunshine patches through his tee-shirt and the cool wind blowing from the direction of the river. It felt nice. Several Japanese middle school students laughed and talked rapidly as they walked on the footpath in front of the sakura tree; not even glancing at Sam and Mark as they past them.

" Mark...um.. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I woke you up! I didn't want to disturb your sleep! I really didn't! I just-...I'm so sorry. I was trying to be quiet and keep it in and-"  
Sam blushed and stuttered over her words.

" Sam! Sam."  
Mark turns over and nests his head in Sam' shoulder; breathing in her sweet vanilla shampoo. His other arm rests around Sam's other shoulder and winds into her soft, lovely hair. Sam blushes and stops rambling.

" Y-yes? "

" Less talk, please. More cuddling, thank you. "

  
Mark feels downright devious as Sam awkward takes her arms and oh-so gently places them oh his back. He feels her neck heat up and he smiles which causes Sam to blush even more. Sam felt like combusting from within; like the tiny screaming on-fire Sams in her head would file out one by one out of her mouth. She would never get used to Mark touching her.

And they stayed like this for a long time, in each other's arms; basking in the warm sunlight around sleepy pink sakuras and the laughter of japanese middle schoolers in the background.

 

  
" Mark? I'm sorry for waking you up. I really am sorry for bringing you here. I mean the one night you're actually sleeping, I had to- "

  
" Sam, seriously? I might deck you if you don't stop. "

" Besides, I like traveling with you. I feel stuff when i'm with you. "

" F-feel stuff? Um. Like what stuff? "

" The sunlight. Mostly. And wind. And rain. It's a nice change after two years of terrible nothingness. "

" Oh. "

"..."

  
" I also really like you, Samantha Barnes so don't you get all disappointed on me. "

"..."

" I really like it when your neck flushes up, Sam. It's cute."

"..."

" I feel warm when I'm with you too, just so you know- "

" Mark. Please shut up. "

 

" M'kay. "

 

" Ilikeyoutoo. "

" _Ooooooo_. You're _Sneaky_ , Samantha. "

 


End file.
